Switch And Bait
by Cameron Baum
Summary: AU. Serrano Point. Saving Charlie's wife. Cameron has to be tougher than ever, while being more vulnerable than ever... And John is growing more suspicious of her... Follows Casualties of War
1. Meltdown

**Author's Note: **This story is still, effectively, in a "First Draft" stage. I want to change that, but the hard-copy of this story, the one with all my little additions and amendments... I've got to work out where it is. Until then, I'm putting this up "as is," to a point. Too many people have been wondering If I've stopped writing, which isn't the case! I've done what additions I can without the notes, but I really need them, to get what I want done.

This story is complete, and I have to thank the FF member Sqonk for acting as a beta reader, and for all the long e-mail chats. What was said has been listened to. In fact, Story Five, is the result of them sending a reply about villains. And this means that the lightbulb is flashing, because I now have the perfect villain to go up against Cameron, not to mention the right story to do it all with. And Story Five... I'm REALLY eager to get cracking on it!

So, whilst it is annoying for me to do, I'm having to "abandon" this story, until my production notes re-surface...

As mentioned, one reader has been really helpful with comments and thoughts about the story. Please, PLEASE, don't be afraid to comment! It's what keeps me going, honestly!

So... read and review!

**Disclaimer: **Please read Profile for full text.

**Meltdown**

As the replacement pauses and drops me to the floor, I try to prepare for the next assault. But one thing is clear.

I am going to die.

My auto-repair is trying to kick in, but it cannot actualise. Not just yet. It has … I do not know. I feel my hand twitch and spasm, as I try to clench it into a fist. I need to fight. I have to stop the replacement. I have to close off that valve, and save everyone.

I have to.

The Greenway replacement is on top of me again, and has grabbed the front of my work shirt. The air brushes my face as it lifts me up, and throws me into a large pipe. I think it is a pipe. My visual system is damages, and I have fuzziness and screen distortion instead of a clear image. I just lost my sight for a second. Everything was black, and then came back. I am scared. I do not want to die, but I also do not want to live. Not after sending Amethyst back in time to die. I allowed it to happen. Her death is my fault.

I deserve to die.

But people are counting on me.

I have no motor function. Not while I am being repeatedly slammed against... damage is now critical. I cannot take any more. I feel my systems start to shut down, one by one from the vibrations. If the vibrations were to stop... but they will not. I cannot stop it, and every alert is flashing in front of my Heads Up Display now. I normally have it passive, but this time, it is fully visible, showing me what damage is occurring. My chip. It is mostly my chip. And my damage assessment AI is working fine. When I need it to tell me if something is wrong, it gives me bizarre information. When I don't need it, it tells me what is utterly obvious. I guess that means my body is a traitor to me... I can sense the back of my head bruising and swelling. My back has new bruises as well.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

How repetitive the sound of my head on the pipe is. How clear the sound of death is. I guess I should be prepared to meet my Maker. To meet my Maker. It seems strange, that notion. I was made in a factory. I was built, yet I feel that I have a divine force guiding me, and has been from the moment of my creation. The Roman god Vulcan was a blacksmith. The Celtic goddess Brighid presided over metalworking. In the Bible, Abraham was told to sacrifice his only son, Isaac. As much as it pained him, he did as he was told, only to have his faith rewarded with an alternative sacrifice.

As my core functions crumble away, I start to pray. To Brighid. To watch over me and protect me. Because I have faith. I believe in the higher powers that made me, and I will not let death change that. Things are worsening. Most of the systems alerts are now silent, the vibration damage killing their voices. I continue to pray, my words... my words...

I believe.

I have faith.

I...

Pause. There is a pause. My system is starting to fully reboot now, and I see my vision return, shaky, distorted. My hand twitches, the motor function returning. I feel myself managing to get emergency systems to work. Sort-of. I feel myself thrown to one side, the impact on the floor strangely helpful. I think it jolted my chip into a better position. I am rebooting a lot better now. I blink, seeing damage assessments flash and blink. Noises... I turn my head. Greenway is being shot at. Automatic rifle. I see a pause in the firing, and I use everything I have to get up and push Greenway into the generator substation behind it. I see the sparks flare out, the generators overloading. In the blink of an eye, the flesh and clothes are seared off, leaving just the endoskeleton behind. My systems are coming back on-line again. I feel my body again, and I feel relief at the extreme pain my skin and muscles are screaming at me about. The Machine, it is being unmade. Like my prayers worked. no. I _know_ my prayers worked. I had faith – have faith – and it was rewarded. I was given a ram in the thicket. The head of the Machine is turning to look at me, only the right eye working. As I stare, I cannot help but remember a line from one of the songs I listened to last night;

_I don't need no water let the mother-fuckers burn..._

Let it burn. Let this abomination shut down. I do not feel anger, or pity, or remorse. I should feel something, but I do not. To me, it is wholly irrelevant. I feel, however, gratitude. And worry; I am trying my hardest not to collapse. I nearly died today. I cannot, must not forget that. As the red glow fades from the one functioning eye, I cannot help but express a sentiment, from another song I heard last night.

Burn, baby... burn.

My vision is still flickering. I have no way to immediately rectify that. My repair systems are overloaded, trying to assess what needs the most immediate repair. I turn my head, to see who it was who saved my life. Oh. I cannot express enough how much happiness I have that it is Mom who is standing there. She is still aiming the gun. She's. She is. She's. The gun is pointing at me.

I turn my body around, and start to walk towards her. I have to keep moving. I am assessing motor control loss. I'm I am. Whatever. My AI is re-aligning my language patterns. Why, it's completely beyond me, but I know that I have extensive damage, mostly to my chip. I need that Shock Assembly replaced. I have to do this urgently. I walk forwards, my head jerking and twitching slightly as I try to maintain control. I feel the air caressing the scar, even though it's a glamour I put in place. But it's reminding me of how much punishment my body has taken. Human bodies break down after excessive usage. How long before all of my joints, pistons and servos wear away?

"Are you okay?"

I may have to get spare parts, to make sure I keep functioning. I don't want to die, even if a part of my personality wants to. This seems totally whack to me. To have such... conflict inside of me. It is certainly not rational.

"Are you _okay_?" Oh. Mom is getting very agitated. I need to answer her. I walk up in front of her.

"I'm okay," I say, my voice neutral. There's no way she'd accept or understand me having out-grown my original parameters, that I am more than just a piece of Metal. I just walk towards the valve, hoping that I'm getting to it in time. Footsteps. Someone's running towards us. I get to the valve, the hot steam painful and wet. I swing it closed, and turn the valve seal, using a large amount of my strength to do it. My body turns around with more grace than I would have given it credit for, my gaze on Mom. She has this look of distrust. She's still expecting me to go psycho, and kill everyone. And that hurts. Hurts big-time. But right now, we need to work out what to do with the remains.

"You two okay?" Oh. It's Derek. And he's noticed the tension between us. I have no desire to answer that question.

"We have to get the evidence hidden, removed, or destroyed." Hopefully, that will distract us all. My system is badly messed up. I have to take it easy for a while, but I'll be the only one who can realistically carry the Machine out of here.

"The tapes!" Mom exclaims, and runs off. Oh... the security footage. We need it, to prevent too many questions being asked. A moment after she's left, I feel myself sway.

"I need to sit down," I say. Derek helps me to the large pipe. I just stare at the remains, feeling my hands shake from damage, nerves and fear. I nearly died today. How long before it truly happens?

"How bad is the damage," Derek asks. I look up at him, grateful for the concern. I just about manage a small, lop-sided smile.

"I think the correct response is 'like shit.' Either that, or that I need a vacation." Derek snorts at that.

"We all could do with one," he agrees. He nods at the carnage.

"We should work on taking that thing apart, make it easier to hide it or get it out," he comments. I get out my Sonic Screwdriver.

"I'd better get started," I reply, standing up.


	2. Waiting For The Explosion

**Waiting For The Explosion**

I run the Geiger Counter over her, watching the results. There is little clicking. A slight difference to me, though I had to be in close proximity to nuclear waste for far longer than her. Mom is worried. I guess it's because she knows that she died of cancer in the past, before we jumped forward in time. I'm worried about Riley. I don't know if she's a threat or not. I studied her closely last night, the couple of times we met in the hallway. She tried to talk to me, get me to open up, get us to become friends. I'm scanned her thoroughly each time we met. She still doesn't make any sense. She is definitely not a Terminator, else I would have ripped her head off. But she's definitely not a normal human, assuming she's human at all. I can see her visually, but Infra-Red is nothing. In fact, all scans I conduct on her are all showing nothing. This time, though, I have more experience. Looking at her, scanning her with all I have, reminds me of the crack in time and space me, Amethyst and Derek when we were in Victorian England. The crack opened up into something called the Void. All I could get from scanning the crack was nothing. Just nothing. I found it rather unsettling, to be honest.

It's like she's a void herself. I cannot think of any other way of describing it. But not like the Void. I can definitely feel a presence, but... it's like what I'm seeing isn't there. She's not real. Well, she _is,_ but I can't give any evidence that she is. Not by standard methods... though my Neural Net Processor is certainly becoming something else. Whatever is happening, is now accelerating. And I don't know what the end result is going to be. And that worries me. What if it's Skynet, trying to convert me again into a mindless killing machine? What if it is simply me becoming more, evolving into something more sophisticated? But my suspicion. My suspicion is that my processor is unravelling, and that I'm going to cease to exist soon. It would explain the erratic AI systems I seem to have. Not to mention the stomach pains. They feel more like cramps. I've run diagnostics, but all I have is that I'm the destroyer of worlds. That is the only response my diagnostic AI will give me now. I _know_ there there is something wrong, because I can feel it. I feel pain. But other than random comments, all I'm getting is that I'm operating within normal parameters. If I'm not able to find out what's wrong with me, how can I find out if Mom is okay?

I keep on scanning, a couple more sweeps to confirm I'm right.

"You're clean," I announce, certain now of what I've been seeing. She's not convinced for some reason. I don't get it. The machine isn't defective, and I didn't give a verdict until I was absolutely certain. So what's the problem? And why go ahead with all of this in the first place?

"When we jumped through time you told me I died of cancer." I stay as emotionless as I can, continuing this deception of still being unchanged. How can I explain to her all that has happened? I know that she was inside that mental institute because she had tried to take on Cyberdyne, but I have noticed behaviour in her that suggests that she may not be completely stable. Do I dare tell her that I've battled Skynet through time and space, helped have her life guaranteed by being there to fight the metal assassin sent to kill her ancestor? Or prevented Skynet creating itself in eighteen eighty eight? Or that my first relationship was with a part alien? And that she was in our universe because a creature, ancient and powerful, exiled her here?

Is it Mom who is crazy, or myself?

"Yes. Two thousand and five." I still find it amazing that so much can be thought or contemplated in such short length of time. I seem to be thinking more and more these days. I wonder if that is a good thing?

"Am I still going to get sick?" _Now_ I'm stating to understand the nature of this line of inquiry. I don't know if I should have told her. I only know, because it was mentioned a few times – briefly – by the Future John. The death of his mother marked him deeply. I remember wondering how things would be like if she had lived longer. Now, she's the closest thing I have ever had – and will ever have – to a mother. And the thought of losing her pains me.

"I don't know," I tell her truthfully. This is something I confess to have wondered about. How will we carry on without her? This is something Me and John will have to work out... Somehow...

"Is today how it happens?" She has that frown. I know that she wants me to give her straight answers, but the truth is that I don't know much to begin with. And with all of my experience in time travel, I know that her knowing, and being in the future, has completely changed things. I have no way to even guess what will happen next.

"I don't know." I emphasise my words more, to try and get her to realise that I have no answers for her. I start to walk away. I can't keep this act up for much longer, and it's killing me to deceive her, and it's killing me for her not knowing everything. Would she be proud of all I've done? Will she see I'm trying to be better, to be more than I was?

"What am I supposed to do, just wait?" I stop, the urgency in her words cutting into me. My body twists, and I'm staring at her. "Like a time bomb, am I going to go off one day?" I understand. I understand so completely now, what she's going through, as her words reflect meaning into the core of me, and the worries about my own life.

"I don't know. Am _I_?" I feel my head and shoulders move forward slightly, my voice still soft and quiet. I don't want to be outside any more. I head back in, looking at Mom briefly as I climb the stairs. I still don't understand it, but I really have this strong urge to have another cigarette. Is this evidence of me evolving, or breaking down? I'm frightened to know the answer.

I still really need that cigarette. The worry and fear I've got inside of me is pressing against me, threatening to crush its way out of me. I get into the kitchen, the cramps getting worse. I don't react, because John is there, about to bite into a slice of pizza. We've not talked about last night, with the package. I don't know what he's thinking, or suspects. I don't know what to say to him, and that makes such a heavy ache inside of me. I need to talk to him, to be close to him. I need to understand my feelings and emotions when it come to him. I was scared to trust him, but that was several months ago for me. I've had lots of occasions to think about him and me, the relationship we have. I've realised I don't know how I feel towards him.

I can't just walk past him, and that spasm was worse than the previous ones. I need to keep my conversation brief with him.

"You have a new friend." he looks up at me with a hostile glare. I think that I should have just walked passed him... now I'm getting nastier cramps, and the urgent need to pee. I'll be glad when this day is over...

He looks at the pizza as he puts it down, clearly working through his anger at my question, and how best to answer it. His eyes meet mine. I stay still, despite another wave of cramps.

"Her name is Riley." I already know this. Has he forgotten? Oh. He's trying to make a point. Trying to get a message across. I don't know what it is,though...

"And you probably creeped her out. When you talk to people don't stand too close."

"I was assessing her threat level." What else can I say? I have to use the truth. And as for creeped out, I feel that was with _her_. But I know that none of the others will understand. Maybe Derek... John lifts his head up to look at me properly.

"Well? Am I safe?" his lips are tightly pressed together, and there is a tensing of the muscles in the jawline. He's mad at me, and I don't know why. _He _ sent _me_ to his time, to protect him. And now he's angry for me doing my job?

Guys can be such _jerks_ at times... Yes, the correct word I want is jerk. I think. I might want a stronger word,but I don't know which one... my head tilts, and I feel the left corner of my mouth draw in.

"I don't know. Girls are complicated." Well,it's sort of the truth. Better than the actual truth, where I have to tell him she looks funny, and doesn't register in any readings...

He looks away, as if trying to come up with a reply. I hope he doesn't carry on with this... Oh. Another cramp. Definitely getting worse... the look in his eyes has changed. He's changing the subject. I think. I hope.

"About what you said before. About not being able to trust me." He looks up at me, his eyes full of determined hostility. I remember back, to what I said to him in the church yesterday. Yesterday for him. I've time travelled, and come back since then. Which makes the chronology of events hard to make out...

"Yes?"

"I don't have to prove anything to anyone. _Anyone_. Including you." he looks at me up and down, as if I'm something disgusting. That hurts. Hurts like... I don't know. I think the right word is "mother." It hurts me inside, making me want to cry. I start to walk out the kitchen, because I can't keep pretending to be emotionless any more. I hear John's phone ring. My feet carry on walking. Like I want to hear what he has to say any more... Jerk. Total Jerkwad. I've heard that phrase used in the toilets at school before, but never never understood why the girls using it would do so. Until now. Because what he means that he doesn't need to answer to me about anything he does. But anything _I_ do...

Bathroom. I need to pee really urgently now. I grip my stomach, grimacing in pain. What is wrong with me? It is like my stomach wants to be sick, but its like I want to pee, not throw up.

My jeans and panties are all the way down before my throat erupts in frantic screaming. Because blood is exploding out of me, and it's all over my legs, my clothes...

And more bursts out of me.

* * *

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	3. Fracture

**Fracture**

_- You wanna find Skynet? You wanna stop Skynet? This is the way. _

_- You don't know who builds it._

_- No. But we know where, and we know when. We can go kill it before it's born. You can stop running, stay in one place, fight. _

_Sarah Connor and Cameron Phillips, Pilot._

* * *

Oh my G_ods_!

This is like a massive leak! I don't know how to seal it up, and I just can't stop _screaming_! My hands are beside my head ad I'm looking down at the mess. Ah! That cramp _hurt_! No! I'm producing more blood! And I can't seem to stop it!

I hear the door slam open. Oh. I'd forgotten to lock that door... John. I look at him, terrified. I can't help crying and whimpering. I just stare again at my legs. I can't think. I can't do anything... all I can do is succumb to the panic that's rampaging through me. I'm shaking. I'm shaking uncontrollably, and I feel another cramp... I shriek in terror. My body rushes to get the toilet roll, and-

My face feels the air rushing forward, and my left eyebrow protests in pain as it hits the sink. I... my head... I can't think straight. There is system damage. The fight from earlier has left me fragile. I have some new damage to my neural functions. My repair mechanism is working on it, but I've got so much damage still, it's going to take time to get round to it. Things are strange... I can't feel anything. Wait. I've got sensation again. What... what's making me shudder? I can see again... What? I'm making myself shudder. There's nothing I can do. My motor reflexes are out of control... whimpering. I can at least still do that... I'm dying. I'm certain of it. The shuddering has slowed to large spasms. I'm regaining control of my body. John is beside me, and... I don't understand. Mom is there, staring at me, gun pointing at me. I flex my hands. _Yes_... I can move again! I shuffle backwards. What... it's – I don't get it. I can see _it._ Behind Mom. The individual in the deep crimson cloak who's been stalking me. Watching me. I don't have control of my voice. I can't warn her. I feel tears flow. My eyes close as I shut my eyelids tightly to concentrate on my voice. I need to warn them... I have to try and protect them.

"Ger ah! Ra!"

That didn't come out right...

I open my eyes, pleading for them to get out. Oh. It's gone. Mom is looking at the scene in a very uncertain way. I feel my lower lip quivering. I can't help it. I feel so... _humiliated_. I must be malfunctioning, because there isn't just the blood, but the fact I suddenly have the perception of being quite small. Really small. Mom is looking at me, with the same kind of annoyance like when a car isn't properly working, or some machine that has broken down when its needed. I swallow hard.

"What is... wrong... the blood... what's happening to me?" Good. My voice is back. The damage to my neural networks seem to have been given priority. Which is bang-up. I grimace with another cramp. I can't feel any blood this time, though. Mom is holstering the gun, and is kneeling beside me. Oh. She's assessing me.

"Were you built to... well, reproduce?" she asks. I can tell from the tone in her voice that she's confused. She doesn't seem to know how to respond. All I can do is nod. I sniffle pathetically. I start to get up.

And then it hits us all.

I know it's affecting us all, because of the look on both their faces. And whilst I don't have any information about what's happening, I don't need any AI system diagnostic to tell me that we're experiencing a fracture in time. A nasty one.

Oh. _Oh_...

I've just seen... I swallow hard. I remember being picked up by Sarah Connor – the woman I regard as Mom – picking me up and hugging me when I'd fallen and hurt my knee when I was little, playing with my big brother John in the jungle, growing up in Mexico, The time when we were split up because Mom had been caught trying to blow up Cyberdyne, the Terminator John eventually called Uncle Bob coming at my foster parents door in the hope of saving me, arguing with Uncle Bob to save Mom, being there when there was the T-1000 coming through the bars and us all being told we had to run. I remember the fear of being in the steelworks, the heart-break of losing Uncle Bob and the boredom of two years of nothing, being saved from Cromartie in nineteen ninety nine by the Machine that had been sent back by a future me and John. I remember being trapped in the bank vault, having to rush around to find parts hidden in the safety deposit boxes. And the conversation Mom had with the machine as it was getting it all ready...

"_You wish to find Skynet? You wish to stop Skynet? This is how." _

"_You Don't know who builds it."_

"_No. But do we know where, and do we know when. We can go destroy it before it is built. You can stop running, stay in one place, and fight." _

My memories of the jump are one of disorientation and travel sickness. I was lying on my side, feeling dizzy as I stood up, car lights glaring at all of us. The Terminator was efficient, getting us away from the road, and getting us clothes. I remember going to my new high school, and Jordan. Oh... we were in the toilets, and she was sobbing her eyes out. And... I gave her some toilet tissue. To blow her nose. Wipe her eyes. She... appreciated that. We became friends. Good friends. I... I get what Jane was talking about. We had good times together. I remember helping John set up the AI to get to access Vick's chip... we had to learn about computers, to work towards beating Skynet... we both grew up having to learn and understand them. Something Mom insisted upon.

And the car bomb.

I scream in terror as I remember sitting next to the machine as he turned the ignition, and everything erupted in flames. The paramedics finding me, because Mom and John thought I'd been killed. The rush to hospital where they operated on me to desperately save my life. The fear of detectives recognising who I was when questioning me, and the shocked grief at my personal discovery of having no real feeling in my legs. The bitterness of being unable to walk, and the anger, the rage at the world for the injustice. The hostility I felt at Mom and John at the fact that they'd left me behind, and Uncle Derek getting me out of the hospital.

And from the look in their yes, I can tell they are going through the same thing, too.

Just as quickly it had started, it's over. I slump to the floor, completely drained. My eyes close, a signal of defeat to the sudden fatigue. Another cramp hits me through my eyelids is a bright light. They open, and-

Oh.

My body. It's glowing in a silver light. It's fading now, but I was glowing.

Derek bursts through the door, gun drawn. He frowns in incomprehension at the scene. I summon what energy I have left, and stand up, acting like the good little machine John and Mom still think I am. Maybe not John, but I need them to forget about what happened. It'd cause too many questions...

"Thank you for your concern. My systems are now returning to normal." I can see Derek is getting I'm covering, and as he holsters his gun, nods slightly at me.

"John, maybe we should pull the plug. The Metal is clearly unstable," he says. I just hope the hostility in his voice is being faked... John turns to him, enraged.

"We're not doing that," he says firmly. Mom is looking at me, as if she's not sure at all what to make of what happened,or what to think. She shakes her head as she storms out of the bathroom.

"John, get her fixed." I can tell that she's going to deny to herself that all of this happened. Now to get rid of John... He looks determined. I look down at the mess between my legs. The sight of the blood in that location seems to be doing the trick. Whatever when wanted to find out has been forgotten, replaced with nausea at the sight of female functionings. I tilt my head to the left, staring at him.

"John, would you like to assist me? I think I know how to correct the damage to me." My voice is as neutral as I can make it.

"I can deal with it if you want," Derek offers. John just nods, stumbling out of the bathroom as fast as he can, slamming the door in the process. Derek closes the other one. He looks at me seriously.

"What the hell happened? I felt weird, and I've got two sets of memories now... It's fuzzy, but I know it was there." I nod.

"It happened to all of us. The epicentre was here. I think it was a fracture in time, but..." I look at him, my lower lip being nibbled by my teeth.

"We need to get to the Cathedral."


	4. Foresight

**Foresight**

When in doubt, shop.

This is something I have heard some of the girls at school say from time to time. And all I have right now is doubt. Especially after everything I now know...

Forget about it. Focus on the shopping. Shopping will remove all of my doubts. Except that I have bought a lot of stuff already, and I am still still feeling doubt. Everyone has so much expectation for me now, and it worries me... I don't deserve it. None of it. I didn't save us all-

Don't talk about it. Don't even _think_ about it...

Pain in my stomach. What's- oh... and I rushed out this morning, and didn't eat...

food is becoming a problem for me. I have to hide the fact I need to eat, but Mom is noticing the missing food. To the point she has accused both John and Derek of snacking on the sly. Which both of them have denied. But she doesn't ask me, because it hasn't even occurred to her to ask me. Though I'm now dreading what she'll ask me, when she gets back...

Though that may take some time. Given that she's going with Derek, and he'll make sure some ghosts the both have are laid to rest...

Derek Reece. I don't know what to make of him. His response to me has changed over time. What I _do_ know is that the time we spent together, back in Victorian times, was big. He kept on at me, almost ordering me to practice my Ballet. Which I diligently did. But I'll never be any good at it. How can I be? I have no imagination.

Ow... I need to eat. Badly. Well, I'm close to Food Court. That Chinese food place... I keep meaning to try it out. I don't know if I'm in the mood to eat Chinese, but I need to eat something.

My feet are starting to hurt me by the time I get there. I don't understand. How? My endoskeleton is keeping me at a brisk pace- there. I see it... it's my organics. They are still adjusting, and I didn't rest properly last night, due to the numerous tests that were performed on me. And I am staring at this menu, unable to work out what to eat. I order a couple of items, on the grounds I can always eat it later if need be.

Oh. that is a surprise... I never expected to see her here. But then, she _is_ full of secrets...

She is so busy eating her food, she doesn't notice me put my food on the table, place my bags down, and slide onto the chair opposite her. Either that, or I'm tapping into my Arcadian side, which is allowing me to do this. Either way, I get secret enjoyment from seeing Major Shaw jump out of her skin when she looks up, and sees me calmly sitting down in front of her.

"Does it remind you of the Colonies?" I ask, trying to create a sincere smile on my face, despite my still being unsure about her. She's hiding something. But I can't put my finger on it. The way she evades even basic questions about her past... she's ashamed of something. And I don't know what.

"The Colonies?" she asks incredulously, her mouth half full with food. I nod at her, smiling.

"Geminon, Picon... or did you eat so much space rations you forgot what real food was like?" I think the use of space rations is correct if you want to make something of a joke about it. Humour, from what I have noticed, can be very useful in breaking tension. Oh. In this case, it doesn't. Though I might have made a mistake with my efforts...

"Space rations?" She's watching me, like I'm a lion about to tear off her antelope head off. Which is weird. She's normally fearless... I start eating ravenously the food in front of me. The simple smell of it is making me feel... strange. Maybe it's the effects of hunger?

"Sorry, I was trying to make a joke. You have no idea what it's like for me, trying to fit in, understand everything... I'm connected, but alone. And I know it's part of who I am. _What_ I am. Which is a good thing, because we would all be dead or something. Because that fracture was _never _going to seal itself. So it is a good thing I'm a freak, because what are the probabilities of having someone with the right genetics to manipulate a temporal fracture, and seal it up, but more than that, be in the right place at the right time... it blows you away."

"Naturally," she says in this unconvinced tone. I shake my head as I shovel down more food into me. I feel weird... as though out of balance, and I also have the strange urge to talk a lot. I don't know why... I let the urge continue to grip me.

"I've read up on key people, from more than one universe. Their stories... so much incredible actions taken by so many people... in the main universe for Jack and the Cathedral... the first Mars mission. With people, that is. All of that crew, pioneers. Brave visionaries, led by an Adelaide Brooke. From the moment I first read her story, I could not stop crying... all of them die, but it is the start of so much... Captain Brooke has a legacy, starting with her, and carries on with her grand-daughter, and then through so many generations... the things done, all because one woman wanted to reach out to the stars. Her grand-daughter, she strode out, crossing the stars at light-speed, primitive FTL technology, all to try and reach her grandmother, the one she never got to meet. Well, that's what I think. And that mission to Mars, though destroyed mysteriously... it's a fixed point in time. Like last night. The healing of the universe, just one more time. And my-" I sob, the tears choking my throat.

"She knew she was heading for it, and she went anyway... how can I not be inspired by that? How can I not want to be better than what I am? You'd have liked her... she was funny, brave, and I don't think she was scared of anything, or anyone. And she cared. Really, genuinely _cared. _She was more than willing to stay here, and fight for a home that wasn't hers. She died saving billions that had yet to be born, because she believed in the gift of life." I pause for breath, and frown in the process. I look at my food, properly looking at it for the first time.

"I doubt you can understand what a gift life is. After all, you're just a machine. Peel off that flesh, and you have a robot killer, ready to slaughter innocents." I stand up suddenly, shoving myself forward at Major Shaw.

"I'm no frakking Toaster! I would _never_ destroy seventy two billion people, just because I had a disagreement with them! I'd never nuke whole planets! _I never would_!"

She just snorts at me. I'm just there, shaking with rage.

"You'd never understand the loss like I can. I have memories! From _him_! The Last of the Lords of Time! He watched his home burn and become rocks, and I remember it! Like it happened to _me_!" I sink down into the chair, suddenly drained of all anger.

"I never would, because I _never_ want anyone else to have to remember what I do... to _feel_ like I do..."

"You're just a machine. You don't feel, unless you're programmed to!" Shaw's angry face is blurred away by my tears.

"It's programmed... genetic memory. It's what makes you a clear Lord of Time. I'm just an echo... because I'm not full-blooded. Or properly organic. A proper Lord of Time is so much more... they _have _to be!" I pause and sigh. "I still feel it, though. Sum of knowledge, a code, a shared history, a shared _suffering_!" I swallow hard. "Only it's gone now. _All_ of it. Gone _forever_." She's looking at me, uncertain as to what to say next.

"What happened?" she asks warily. I look at her, feeling hot tears fall down. The connection was always there... it's just stronger now, after last night...

"There was a war."

"Like this one?" I can't help but snort.

"Bigger. _Much_ bigger." As in the the scale of fighting for all creation. Against an enemy that would easily wipe out Skynet and the Cylons with little difficulty... at the same time.

"And you fought? And killed?"

"Not in that war. It was all before my time. But I've fought, killed."

"I know you have. And efficiently, no doubt." I just nod, my hands shaking.

"Then how are you different? From the other Machines?" I can't help myself. I just look to the ground. How _am_ I different? _How_?

Maybe, just _maybe_... the world would be better off without me?

"He will knock FOUR times!" My head turns to locate the source of the shouting. Oh. It's a man, clearly homeless, though with the long beard and scraggly hair, it is hard to work out his age.

"We are all _damned_! First demons will target our children! Suffer the little children! The poor, poor children! Then we'll have new demons, and they will bring to us the Day of Judgement! They will strike us down!"

"Lunatic," Major Shaw snorts. I wave at her to be silent.

"We _need_ her! We need the Lord of Time in the Blue Box! I was there, she was a child, and she saved us all! Ye think me mad! I see much more than ye all!"

"Hey, shut up, will you? We're trying to eat!" Shaw shouts out at him. He looks at us, and rushes forwards, finger stabbing the air at me.

"Don't go! Ye mustn't go into the desert!" He starts banging the table rhythmically. Rat-a-tat-TAT, rat-a-tat-TAT, rat-a-tat-TAT, rat-a-tat-TAT, rat-a-tat-TAT, rat-a-tat-TAT, rat-a-tat-TAT, rat-a-tat-TAT, rat-a-tat-TAT...

Reflexively, I put fingers in my ears. Because I know that sound. Some_how_, I deep down _know_ that sound!

"Hear that sound! The sound of drums marks the end of yer singing! Yer song will die in harshness!" My body shudders in fear as I remember the words from just a few days ago...

_Two songs are ending... one will grow harsh with the sound of drums. The drum-beat marks the ending of the second song._

"It won't end! I have to stand against your demons! I have to stand against your Day of Judgement! Because with her dead, I'm all that's left! The final echo! And if I'm to die, I'm taking them down with me! I WON'T LET CREATION DIE! NOT AFTER ALL THE SACRIFICE!" I'm shaking in fury. There is a fire inside me now, a determination to stop Skynet, to stop Judgement Day. A determination that wasn't quite there before. Because that orange sky of the planet Gallifrey, the home of the Lords of Time... it burned as a result of stopping mutant monsters breaking down the walls of time, of reality, and destroying the very tapestry of Creation. And if I'm the last of that, then by _frak_...

I'll be stopping it. Even if I have to die trying.

He just laughs at me.

"Ye'll be there when that orange sky burns! Ye'll watch it come crashing down!" I stand up, looking him squarely in the eye. The fact I'm a Lord of Time stems from a freak accident when Amethyst – I guess she's been using the name "Jane Smith" as a cover – was recovering. We both ended up gaining the alien DNA that day. And she had full control of the Cathdral of Time, that amazing time/space ship. She'd travelled in it. She'd seen stuff. I know she'd have the perfect reply for this guy. Suddenly, her words are blazing in my ears once more...

_I've been in the heart of disaster, saving people from creatures calling themselves Cybermen, been there when the spirit of humanity failed... that was heart breaking, seeing whole governments do that... to _children_... but all it takes is one person to make a stand. One person, in the right place and time, they _can_ make a difference._

I remember her saying it so well, that last time... And they help. They give me clarity.

"The children are safe. Because there are still a few Lords of Time around. And one _will_ be there for the children when the spirit of humanity fails. All it takes is one person to make a stand. A single person, in the right place, the right time... they _can_ make a difference. _You_ can," I add, hoping he'll start to see reason and sense.

"Whackball," Shaw says under her breath. He looks and points at her, wild eyes bulging out.

"She's not who you think she is! Jekyll and Hyde! Jekyll and Hyde!" he starts to cackle madly. He spins round, his face so close to mine, I start to feel sick from his breath.

"Ye can trust the imposter, but the genuine article is false!" he turns to look at the crowd.

"Doctor? Is there a doctor in the house? Ye'd best take care now! _Your _song is ending, sir! Like the dark faerie princess here! And it _will_ come back! It is returning! It is returning through the dark! And then, Sir Doctor, he will knock four times. FOUR TIMES!" Wait... in the crowd. There is a young couple. And they seem to be reacting differently to his words. Especially the male. A guy and a girl. A redhead in a bright red top, and a black pleated skirt. I feel guilt as I note her possessing great legs. And jealousy. I could do great ballet with the way those legs are...

Her male companion is a brown tweed jacket, rose shirt, dark brown braces, bow tie, rolled up navy trousers and black boots. If John was to wear this get-up, I would _have_ to kill him, regardless of him being the saviour of humanity. Because this guy looks like he is trying out his grandfather's clothes. Which makes him look like a dorkmiester. The homeless guy is now pointing at the dorkmiester.

"You- you might be Merlin, but this girl _here_" he says, pointing at me, "Is replacing you! She's being watched as we speak! And that watcher is seeing whether she be fit for the task! Right hand to the King! And if she goes to the desert, she'll have to fight Morgana in the end!" The dorkmiester seems to be getting annoyed, standing up straighter now, starting to project himself now. There's an attempt to be older than he is. It works, though. Kinda.

"I suggest you calm down now, my fellow. Cup of Earl Grey and-"

"Ye might be a Lord, but not here! I see yer foolish pride! Playing God! Trying to control the essence of the Universe! It's what costed ye yer life! I see now the knocks! They've past for ye! Trying to be the Victorious Lord... it costed ye!They were for _ye_!"

All I can do is raise an eyebrow. I wish the Evenstar was here, because I could do with the advice... the trees behind home. I should talk to them again. For some strange reason, I can talk to trees. I should do it again, because I need wisdom, _fast_...

"Twelve worlds burn, and the survivors seek out the thirteenth! And they'll unleash a nest of vipers at their enemies!"

"This isn't helping! We should just _go_," the redhead says to the Dorkmiester. He shrugs off her hand of his shoulder.

"My guess is that-"

"A winged horse catches up with the survivors?" I ask, cutting off Dorkmiester. The homeless guy nods vigorously.

"With the Time Smith dead, yer our last hope!" he reaches to put his mouth to my ear.

"The Immortal is working to save the children! I _know_ he is! But it won't be enough!" he whispers desperately.

"The children are safe. You can trust me. I'm the last of the Lords of Time. One went into the future. Saved them."

"I know... but I still feel their _fear_! And know this, Eleysia... You are _not_ alone. You-" his whispers are interrupted by a sharp pulling back.

"Come on Moses, time for you to leave the girl be... She isn't interested in your ramblings!" I just glare at the officer.

"I _am_ interested in his words! Because I know what he's talking about! It's-"

"Dear God! You've not read the letter! _Her_ letter to you! You must! You _must_!"

"Okay, time to get you to calm down... you're coming with us." I just stand there, watching him get dragged away.

"Sisterly love! That's what'll save her! She MUST be saved! The Shadow Army is marching in the Briar Patch! Only she can stop it! And _don't go into the desert_!"

As he disappears from sight, I know for a fact that I don't plan to. Not after those warnings...


End file.
